


Leverage

by NoirSongbird



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Slow Burn, pls enjoy, probably, the leverage au a surprising number of you asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armitage Hux, former Marine Scout Sniper, former insurance investigator, and current Sad Drunk, is surprised when he is approached by a mysterious CEO named Snoke with a job offer: recover stolen plans for an innovative new aircraft design. He is asked to oversee a team of some of the finest criminals in the business: hacker Kylo Ren, hitter Phasma, and thief Rey. When Snoke double-crosses them, the team decides to take him down, with the help of brilliant grifter Poe Dameron and some unexpected aid from Snoke's personal assistant, a man named Finn. They discover they work well together, and that, frankly, it's sort of fun to use their skills to help people - and thus is Leverage Consulting born.</p>
<p>Sometimes, bad guys make the best good guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Nigerian Job, pt 1

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned this AU on tumblr, and was surprised and pleased by the positive response, so here you go - the AU you never knew you wanted! Rating will likely go up, but I'm setting it at Mature for the moment because there's a theoretical, very slim chance I won't write porn, I guess.

Hux was not having what most people would qualify as a “good day.” For him, it actually marginally qualified - he was drunk enough to take the edge off the grief and rage that had been his companions for nearly a year, but not _so_ drunk that he was likely to embarrass himself by tripping over his own feet, or something. It was a delicate balance, and one he had become intensely practiced in striking.

Hux was also accustomed to drinking alone, _especially_ when he was day drinking at a hotel bar. So having someone not only sidle up next to him, but address him by _name_ \- which was unpleasant, he liked his anonymity - was jarring.

“Sergeant Hux,” a smooth, collected voice addressed him, and Hux turned very slowly, one eyebrow raised. No one had addressed him by his military rank in a _very_ long time; it especially hadn’t come from someone who looked. Well. Like he was slowly extracting himself from a coffin. That was _eerie._ The man who had poured himself into the seat next to Hux was tall, thin, and aged. “I know who you are.”

Hux hoped his expression conveyed exactly what he was thinking, which was _thank you, that was agonizingly obvious._

“I’ve read quite a lot about your exploits - first as a fine Scout Sniper with the Marines, and then once that no longer suited you, as an _insurance investigator.”_ The man continued. Hux cringed, just a little. “Recovering that Monet in Milan, exposing that terrible identity theft ring - you must have saved First Order Insurance _millions_ in payouts. And then when _you_ needed _them_ ...well. How _terrible,_ what happened, and that your own _father_ is the CEO...”

Hux’s stare, if anything, got colder.

“What do you want,” he said, fist clenching _very_ tightly around his tumbler. Being reminded of his father’s...well, it _felt_ like a betrayal, all things considered, was not exactly improving his day.

“I want to offer you a job.” The man said. Hux lifted his drink, took a sip.

“...I’m listening.” He had been unemployed for a rather long time, and it did sort of rankle at him.

“What do you know about airplane design?”

“Well,” Hux said, “I’m competent at pointing and shooting at things with a rifle, and could probably manage _something_ if you set me up with a drawing board and a ruler,” his tone was laden with sarcasm.

“My name is Snoke,” the man informed him, “and I am the CEO of a firm that specializes, currently, in aeronautics. We have been working for several years on a project, but _unfortunately,_ one of our chief engineers walked out. With all of the plans.”

“And you...want me to find them for you?” Hux asked.

“No. I know exactly where they are. Our rival, Endor Aeronautics, has announced a very similar project; _too_ similar, frankly, and so soon after the designs were stolen? Not a coincidence.” Snoke said. Hux found himself nodding along. It _did_ sound unlikely. “What I would like _you_ to do is steal them _back.”_

Hux stared at him with absolutely blatant incredulity.

“You’re joking.” He said.

“Not at all,” Snoke replied.

“I’m not a _thief_ ,” Hux was already halfway out of his seat, viciously offended by even the _prospect._

“I don’t need thieves. I have those. What I need is a single honest man to _wrangle_ the thieves.” Snoke stood up, and beckoned, and Hux grit his teeth, but knocked back the rest of his drink and followed. They settled at one of the seating areas, still within view of the bar, and Snoke presented him with a thick folder. Hux opened it, flipping through the dossiers inside, and raised his eyebrows. “I presume you are familiar with this group.”

“I’ve chased all of them, at one time or another,” Hux said. “These _are_ the best, if that’s what you’re after.” A long pause, narrowed eyes. “Kylo Ren. You have _Kylo Ren?”_

“One of the finest hackers available,” Snoke said.

“Also prone to violence.” Hux pointed out dryly. “And every single one of these people works _alone.”_

“You see why I need you.” Snoke said. “I am not asking for you to form the finest band of thieves since Robin Hood and his Merry Men. One job, for which you will all be _extremely_ well-compensated. Three hundred thousand dollars for each of them. Double that for you. And…”

“And?” Hux asked, dryly.

“A personal bonus, for you. First Order Insurance holds Endor’s intellectual property policy.” Hux sat up, ramrod straight.

“What.” He leaned forward, not bothering to disguise that he was interested.

“A bit of revenge, on your father, for allowing your son to die? I thought you would appreciate the opportunity.” Snoke gave him a smile that was uncomfortably clever. Hux felt rather played, but frankly, given the circumstances? He would let himself be played.

“I’ll do it.”

 

\-------

 

The plan, on its face, was simple: the three thieves Snoke had hired would handle the actual in-and-out, and Hux would coordinate from the empty, under construction building across the street. Easy enough.

Hux set up, a blueprint projection of the relevant floor of Endor Aeronautics displayed in front of him, and adjusted his communications headset.

“Clear comms?” He asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the offended voice of Kylo Ren crackled over the receiver. The hacker was handsome, Hux supposed, in a nontraditional way - an oval face framed by lightly-curling dark locks, brown eyes, a nose that on someone else might be oversized by that somehow fit his face. “I have something far better than this dinosaur equipment.”

“No surprises,” Hux warned.

“Please. I’ve been doing this since high school. I am the _epitome_ of discipline.” Ren replied. Hux heard what sounded like a very loud snort-laugh. “It’s a bone-conduction earpiece microphone. It works off the vibrations in your jaw. Far less conspicuous, and you can hear _everything_.”

Hux had to give him credit, that _was_ useful.

“You’re not as useless as you look,” a new voice chimed in - Phasma, Snoke’s “retrieval specialist.” Possibly the single most terrifying woman Hux had ever met, six foot three, built like a brick wall, with close-cropped blonde hair and sharp eyes.

“I don’t even know what you _do,_ ” Ren grumbled.

“I retrieve.” Phasma said, and Hux suspected she turned her cold blue gaze on Ren, because he made a tiny noise that sounded like a squeaked apology.

“Can I get one of those?” A cheery, feminine voice asked.

“Here,” Ren replied, and Hux picked up humming as the last member of the team slipped in her earpiece. Rey was a slip of a girl with a soft face and a gentle look, but one of the cleverest thieves in the business. Absolute proof of the adage about not judging a book by its cover.

For what they were about to do, Hux doubted there was a better team out there.

Rey began to set up her equipment, turning it over in her hands.

“Last time I used this rig...Paris, 2012.” She sounded amused.

“You stole that Caravaggio?” Hux asked. _He_ felt a little amused, himself.

“Well, yes,” Rey shrugged her shoulders as she adjusted the harness.

“These are safe, right?” Phasma tapped the earpiece.

“Absolutely,” Ren said, “though if you experience, oh, weakness in your right side, nausea, stroke...strokiness…”

“You are _precisely_ why I work alone,” Phasma growled, glaring at Ren again.

“We’re going to go on my count,” Hux said, rubbing his temples. “And nothing...off-script, please.”

“We’re professionals, we know what we’re doing.” Phasma said.

“Five, four,” Hux started.

“You’re so grim, Phas. Lighten up.” Ren said, and he almost managed affected sunniness.

“We are _on the count._ Five, four, three…”

Rey took off for the edge of the building.

“She’s gone,” Phasma said.

“ _Son of a --”_ Hux swore, as Rey’s loud “ _wheee!”_ echoed through the comms.

“Christ,” Ren swore under his breath.

“Vibration detectors,” Rey reported. “It’ll be the binary, no cutting.”

“Perfect.” Hux said, and Rey set to work, while Ren and Phasma went in through the roof access to the elevator shaft. So far, no real hitches, and with Rey settled in the electrical room with eyes on security, that would hopefully mean a hitch-free heist.

Not to be, apparently.

“They’re down four guards, doing their patrol an hour early,” Rey warned, and Hux groaned.

“The playoffs,” he rubbed his temples. “They’re doing their walkthrough early so they can watch the damn basketball game.”

“Fuck,” Ren swore, smacking his fist into the device he was using to attempt to brute-force his way through the door. “It’s a ten-digit passcode, and while I respect the commitment to security, this is going to _take me a while.”_

“You don’t have a while,” Phasma said sharply.

“Phasma,” Hux said, “use Ren as bait.”

“Fucking eh you’re gonna use me as bait, I’m nobody’s _bait,”_ Ren snarled.

“Relax,” Phasma said, and then she was gone, ducked around the hallway so the guards wouldn’t see her.

When they came around the corner, Ren sized them up - four, all armed, which was going to be complicated.

He thought.

Until Phasma slipped in behind them, and in less time than it took his cracker to finish working, she had them all on the floor.

“That,” she said, “is what I do.”

“...Respect,” Ren acknowledged, as the door popped open behind him. “Let’s get those drives.”

That was the easy part, really, tucking the unconscious guards into the server room, acquiring the appropriate hard drives, and erasing the ill-gotten plans from the Endor servers.

“Problem,” Rey said lightly. “The alarms on the upper floors are reengaged. We can’t go out that way.”

“Great,” Ren grumbled. “Of course the out can‘t be easy.”

“Relax,” Hux said. “We go down, then, if you can’t go up. The Burn Scam, I think?”

“That’ll work,” Phasma acknowledged. “What’s that, then, plan B?”

“Plan G, actually,” Hux said, and he heard the rustle of fabric over the comms.

“How many plans are there?” Phasma asked, sounding genuinely curious. “Is there a plan M?”

“Ren dies in plan M,” Hux replied, without missing a beat. Not necessarily nor permanently true, but he was feeling appropriately sarcastic right then.

“Oh, fuck you,” Ren grumbled, but Phasma laughed.

The plan was simple enough, really, and so Hux could tune them out while he scooped up his setup and waltzed down to his car. Paste some fake burn scars on Rey’s face, give her a few casts, generally make her look very sad and pathetic, and then Ren and Phasma would be her escorts out, and the rest counted on the front desk guard’s general human tendency towards embarrassment in the face of bluster. He was sure Ren and Phasma could handle _bluster._

When they swept into the car, Hux drove, letting Ren work in the backseat on a tablet.

“Huh, these designs are pretty neat,” Ren commented. “I can see why Snoke was desperate to get them back.”

“Should you really be poking at the merchandise?” Phasma asked, and the judgement was deeply apparent in her tone. Ren made an annoyed noise, and sank back against the seat.

They stopped several blocks away and piled out of the car, and Ren sent off the plans.

“There, done. They’re back in Snoke’s possession.”

“Excellent.” Hux pressed a hand through his hair. _Finally,_ this was over. He could go back to...well, he could go back to being a lonely drunk living off meager savings and crashing in hotels. It wasn’t a _bad_ life, all things considered.

“You know, this was actually kind of...fun, working together,” Ren said, and Hux groaned.

“One night only, no repeats,” Phasma said, and she was regarding all of them with a very cool stare. “Though Ren _is_ right, I don’t think any of us could have done this alone.”

“I mean it.” Hux realized the hacker was looking directly at him. “I liked playing on the same side as you for once.”

“We aren’t on the same side.” Hux said sharply. “I’m _not_ a thief.”

“You sort of are,” Rey said lightly.

“Yes, well, no repeats. The payment will be in your accounts in the morning.” Hux turned to walk away, and heard footsteps - Rey and Phasma, in opposite directions. Ren, to his mild surprise, lingered.

For a brief moment of what he could only classify as pure insanity, Hux very sincerely considered inviting Ren back to his hotel room. Even when they had been on opposite sides, he had found the clever hacker attractive - immature, often, and far too out of control of his temper for anyone’s good, but distinctly attractive, with a rich voice.

But, no. There was a _line,_ certainly, and _inviting Kylo Ren to his hotel room_ was far and away on the other side of it.

So instead he half-turned, regarded Ren with a raised eyebrow.

“Something you need?” He asked. Ren flushed - _actually flushed -_ and shook his head, shoving the tablet in his bag.

“Some other time, Hux,” he said, and then he was off.

 

\------

 

Hux woke up the next morning with a nasty hangover, aggravated by the shrill screeching of his phone.

“Who…” He grumbled, reaching for it and pressing the speakerphone button because he really could not be arsed to move far enough to put it in his ear.

“The plans were never delivered to me.” Snoke’s voice was tight and sharp.

“I watched them go out,” Hux said blearily. Ren certainly wasn’t going to _keep them,_ was he? “I’ll come to your office and we’ll discuss this in person.” _Fuck his life,_ really, he couldn’t remember why he had agreed to this.

Oh, right, because his father’s company was going to have to hand over a very large, very juicy settlement.

“No. I will send you an address.” Snoke said, and then he hung up. There was the light _ding_ of a text, and Hux groaned. It gave an address and a time - in about an hour - and he reluctantly rolled out of bed.

No reason to show up looking as hung over as he felt.

 

\-----

 

Snoke’s address was a warehouse. Naturally. Probably owned by his company, presumably reasonably private. All well and good.

There was shouting coming from inside, which was abject murder on Hux’s hangover.

When he realized it was Ren, he decided that he couldn’t even begin to be surprised.

“I sent the damn plans,” Ren snarled, “which means it is absolutely _not_ my fault we didn’t get paid, so if you could stop fucking _insinuating,_ ” he was in Phasma’s face, waving a gun, and Phasma looked absolutely unaffected. “And you could stand to look a little more nervous, for the love of _fuck_.”

“The safety’s on,” Phasma said, and Hux strode over.

“Bullshit,” Ren snarled.

“No, she’s right,” Hux said, casting a quick glance at the gun.

“What --” Ren moved to examine it, and Hux snapped a hand out, rapidly divesting him of the weapon and popping out the magazine. The empty gun was casually discarded, and Ren glared, long and hard.

“What are you doing here?” Phasma asked. “Didn’t get your money, either?” She asked, evaluating him.

“Snoke called me to inform me the plans had not been delivered.” Hux replied.

“ _I sent the damn plans!”_ Ren declared, loudly and angrily.

“So you’re _not_ the reason I didn’t get paid?” Rey asked, as she strode up to the group.

“No!” Ren snapped. “I didn’t get paid either, and as much fun as I had, I was _not_ that eager to see you all again, _so no, I didn’t hold them back!”_

This was suspicious. This was _inherently_ suspicious. All four of them were here, Snoke was not, this was an isolated area…

Hux cast his gaze rapidly around the room. He wasn’t so far from his military training that he couldn’t spot an ambush, and there was definitely wiring on the walls that didn’t belong there.

This was a trap.

“Move.” He said, sharply. When no one did, he pointed, emphatically, at the wall. “ _Move,”_ he snapped. Phasma seemed to pick up on his meaning quickly, and she grabbed Rey’s arm and started pulling. “The building’s rigged to blow,” Hux snapped, as he grabbed Ren by the shoulder and started hauling him for the exit.

“Fucking _fuck_ what the _fuck,”_ Ren said, but with the explanation he was running too, and Hux slammed his fist into the switch that would open up the warehouse’s delivery bay door. Rey practically dove under, Phasma followed, and Hux shoved Ren through before he ducked out himself.

They were barely out of range when the building blew.


	2. The Nigerian Job, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was expecting to get to Finn in this chapter but i ran out of steam and decided to cut it off after acquiring Poe, SO! the precious marshmallow will appear in ch 3

Hux woke up in a hospital.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to panic. He was still dizzy, and he hurt, and he wondered, briefly, if he had gotten  _ especially  _ wasted and passed out in public. That sounded terribly, horrendously undignified. 

But -- no, that wasn’t it; the memory rushed back, of the warehouse, and the meeting, and the bomb.

Hux groaned, loudly, and started to sit up. There was a jerk, and he realized he was handcuffed to the bed.

“Fuck,” he said, softly, laying back down and staring very long and very hard at the ceiling.

“You’re not fond of hospitals,” the dry voice of Kylo Ren said, from not far away. Hux opened his eyes, and there he was, tugging on a handcuff that held him to a hospital bed. 

“No, no I am not,” Hux admitted, and he could feel himself shaking, head to toe.  _ Shit.  _ He  _ could not  _ have a panic attack in front of Ren.

“Oh, you’re awake,” and thre was Rey’s voice, and he glanced over to where she paced about the room, twirling her cuff around her fingers. “The police and firefighters arrived just as we were waking up.”

“Where are we?” Hux asked.

“County hospital. The local police responded to the explosion, and they brought us in. Processed us, too.” Phasma held up a hand and wiggled her fingers, from the chair she’d been cuffed to. “They’ll have faxed our prints to the state police,” she continued.

“Oh joy,” Ren grumbled. “Once the staties run us, we’ll all be fairly well screwed.” 

“How long?” Rey asked.

“About thirty minutes,” Ren guessed, considering for a moment. 

“We were printed twenty minutes ago. You could’ve stood to mention this earlier!” Phasma snapped. “We’re all going to jail if we don’t get out in ten minutes.” She considered briefly. 

“I’m  _ handcuffed  _ to a  _ hospital bed,  _ what do you expect me to do?” Ren snapped, and Hux held up a hand.

“Rey, get me a phone,” he said. “We’re going to escape, and we’re going to do it together.”

“For the love of fuck,” Ren grumbled.

“You all know what you can do.” Hux said, and he was determined now, focused, past his initial sheer panic at waking up in a hospital. “I know what  _ all  _ of you can do. Which means I’m the one best positioned to make a plan.”

“I don’t trust any of you,” Rey said, firmly.

“Do you trust me?” Hux asked, and there was a moment of silence.

“Of course,” Ren said, and he was looking directly into Hux’s eyes, dark gaze intense. “You’re an honest man.” Half a smile crossed the hacker’s face. Hux actually found himself smiling back.

“Rey?” He said.

“Ugh,” she groaned, and then she collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, and Phasma did a very good fake yelp.

“She’s fainted! Damn it,  _ help her,  _ she fainted!” 

The two deputies outside the door bolted, coming back with a doctor and a nurse, who helped Rey back up onto her bed and, once she “came to,” the doctor very quickly checked her vitals.

“The fainting could be a sign of more serious head trauma than initially presented,” the doctor said, shortly, and glared over at the deputies. Both of them were staring innocently anywhere but at Rey (and, consequently, at Ren, whose bed was next to hers) which was convenient for both of them, because with no one paying attention...well.

Once the doctors and deputies left, both held up their prizes - two different smartphones. Rey passed hers to Ren, who tossed the one he’d gotten over to Hux. He turned it over, and considered.

“The trick here,” Hux said, tossing the phone to Phasma, “is to give them what they’re expecting. A call from the state police.” Phasma grinned, broadly, and dialed.

“Hello, yes, I’m looking for a Deputy Burns?” She hummed, lightly. “Yes, I’ll hold.” A moment later… “Yes, this is Detective Renwick, of the Illinois State Police? We got those prints you sent us, but one set is...well. We have someone on another line, for you? From the, ah. FBI. Can you hold for just a minute, deputy?” She gave Hux a viper smile, and tossed him the phone. Ren, meanwhile, was taking a very carefully-posed selfie, and then setting up the next part of the scheme. He tapped away rapidly at the phone, and then pulled up a phone-to-fax app.

“Deputy Burns,” Hux said, as smoothly as he could manage, “this is Deputy Director Dewitt of the FBI. Is our man alright?” As much as Ren had called him an honest man, he really, really was not. You didn’t catch criminals without learning some of their tricks.

“What?” The deputy asked.

“One of the men you brought in is our agent. He’s been in deep cover for three years.” Hux lied smoothly.

“Seriously?” The deputy gasped.

“Yes. You should be receiving a fax any moment confirming what I’m telling you.” A devious smile appeared on his face. “Now, most of what I’m telling you is highly classified. I need to know that I can trust you. Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” the deputy said. Ren grinned over at Hux, looking deeply pleased with himself. 

“Undercover FBI agent, that’s a new one, I’m gonna have to remember it,” Ren said, and then he shifted his bearing in his seat ever so slightly - it became stiffer, more rigid, more...well, frankly, more like a federal agent. Hux had to wonder how much contact Ren had with them. The two deputies burst in, practically tripping over themselves to uncuff Ren.

“Agent Nabierre, we’re  _ so  _ sorry,” Deputy Burns said, “we didn’t realize --” Ren held up a hand.

“Relax,” he said, and he rubbed his wrist briefly, “that’s the point of undercover work. You’re not  _ supposed  _ to know.”

Being marched out of a hospital and folded into a borrowed local police car by Kylo Ren was not exactly what Hux would consider  _ dignified,  _ but then, being  _ actually arrested  _ was even less so. Ren was practically flirting with the deputies, too, which was frankly ridiculous, and Hux told himself the irritation was because it was unnecessary, and not because Burns’s partner was fairly blatantly flirting back.

“Really, the FBI absolutely appreciates all the work local law enforcement does. We couldn’t do our jobs without you,” Ren said, and he had the absolute ridiculous audacity to  _ wink,  _ and the poor deputy looked like he was going to faint from sheer blood rush to his face. 

Ren tucked himself into the driver’s seat, and they were off.

 

\------

 

Whatever Hux had expected from an apartment belonging to Kylo Ren, this was not it. A large studio with an open floorplan in surprisingly light colors? Not very Ren, or at least not what he had perceived as “Ren.” Though the large TV, vast entertainment center, and  _ pool table  _ (of all things) did sort of seem to fit his mental image of Ren as a slightly lazy but reasonably well-off twenty-something. The hacker had already planted himself in front of a multimonitor computer setup.

“Four tickets to ‘not fucking here,’ on the way,” he said. 

“I’m going to beat that bastard Snoke so hard, people who  _ look  _ like him are going to bleed,” Phasma growled, and Rey rolled her eyes.

“None of us will ever get close enough, he knows us.” She tilted her head to the side briefly. “Though that does sound like a very nice solution.”

“He tried to  _ kill us,” _ Phasma said.

“ _ And  _ he didn’t pay us.” Rey said, in a tone that indicated she was agreeing but that had Phasma staring in mild horror.

“...How is that an  _ and  _ here?” She asked, looking mildly horrified.

“He’s not the first person to try to kill me, or to try not to pay me for a job, but he’s the first one to do  _ both,” _ Rey said, as if that somehow explained it. 

Hux deposited himself on the couch in the main living area, nails digging into his palms as he considered. 

“Hey,” Ren said from his seat, and then he beckoned them over. “So I went looking for more information on Snoke, and it looks like his story’s about ninety percent true.He really does head up Starkiller Industries - which, gotta say, that’s a hell of a name for a company, like, damn. Very dramatic. And yeah, Endor  _ is  _ their rival, but…” He pulled up a CNN video and blew it up to fullscreen. In it, a man identified as  _ Wedge Antilles, VP - R&D - Endor Aeronautics  _ was speaking to the cameras.

“We lost five years of research, and our servers have been badly compromised in this brazen break-in. We will pursue these perpetrators to the fullest extent of the law, and with all the resources we have at our disposal.”

Hux gave the video a very long, very serious stare.

“He could be lying, making up a cover story,” but he took a few steps forward, churning things over. If it  _ was  _ a lie, that made the betrayal make more sense - it wasn’t just about not paying them, at the very least.

“I was looking over the logs from the rip,” Ren said, “and there are timestamps, for edits to the project. 2011, 2012 - hidden so deep in the code there’s no reason to fake them. If this project  _ was  _ stolen a few months ago, or whatever the hell Snoke was claiming, someone went to a truly ridiculous amount of trouble to cover it up.” 

“So we didn’t steal the plans  _ back, _ ” Phasma said.

“We were just stealing them.” Rey finished. She looked distinctly annoyed.

“Why would Snoke lie to us? I mean, you, I understand,” Ren gestured at Hux, “you wouldn’t have signed on, but the rest of us?”

Hux laughed, just a little.

“Because,” he said, and he had to press a hand to his mouth to stop from actually laughing out loud. It was  _ so  _ terribly obvious, in hindsight. “If he told you the truth, if you knew he was a thieving bastard like the rest of you? You would have been expecting the turnabout. If he’s a regular person, in over his head and desperate? Desperate regular people just want help, not to blow you up in a warehouse.”

“And why didn’t you see this coming?” Rey asked idly.

“Well, firstly, because I’m not a thief.” Hux replied, one eyebrow raised. 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Phasma growled. “A less honest man would’ve --”

Ren physically imposed himself between Hux and Phasma, then, and shoved papers into their hands.

“Tickets. To Rome, Sao Paolo, London, Paris.” He said, and then offered one to Rey, who took it. 

“You’re running,” Hux said, and there it was, again, the almost hysterical urge to laugh.

“Do you have a better suggestion,  _ General?” _ Phasma asked, and the title came out so thoroughly sarcastic that Hux could only roll his eyes. 

“Not you.  _ Snoke. _ ” Hux felt the almost vicious grin cross his face, leaning into the article - with photo - Ren had pulled up. “You’re running,” he addressed the image, “that’s a high-risk play. Your  _ balls  _ are tied to the stock price, with that shareholder meeting coming up…” He turned, glanced back at the three thieves. “We can’t let this bastard have any time to cool down.”

“You want to run a game on Snoke.  _ You. _ ” Phasma was staring at him, with a level of judgement he had not really anticipated.

“Well, yes.” Hux said. “How do you think I recovered most of that stolen merchandise, or sussed out frauds?” He felt amusement bubble up, and a little excitement. “Snoke is greedy, and he clearly thinks he’s far smarter than all of us. He’s the  _ perfect  _ mark.”

“He does think we’re gone,” Rey considered.

“So we have surprise on our side.” Ren leaned forward, looking genuinely interested.

“What’s in it for me.” Phasma asked, though it didn’t exactly sound like a question.

“Payback,” Hux said idly, “and if it goes the way I suspect it will, quite a lot of money.”

“And for me?” Rey asked, eyebrow raised.

“A lot of money,” Hux said, amused, “and if it goes right, payback.” He glanced over. “Ren?”

“Frankly I was just planning to subscribe his office to as many porno magazines as I could find,” Ren said. “I like this a  _ lot  _ better.” 

“And you?” Phasma asked. “What’s in it for  _ you?” _

Hux grit his teeth, and didn’t answer, for a very long moment.

“He used my son.” He felt Ren’s eyes on him, for a long moment, and he knew Phasma and Rey were staring, too. He wondered if any of them had even known about Elijah. Probably not. “Well,” he said, after a very long silence, “let’s go get Poe.”

 

\------

 

They found Poe at some indie coffeeshop. On open mic poetry night.

Hux bought himself a drink and sat back to watch, glancing occasionally at his companions.

To say Poe’s reading was  _ horrendous  _ was to be kind. He was obviously very invested in his poem, but that translated to overacting, dramatic gestures, and...well, frankly, the poem just was not very good. He made up for it, perhaps, by being handsome, with dark brown hair and dark eyes and a well-cut face.

“He’s. Very awful.” Ren said, finally, looking like he was in pain. “I may have been to a worse poetry reading, but it’s been driven from my mind. Completely.”

“Is he... _ okay?” _ Rey asked, sounding very genuinely concerned.

“This has got to be the worst poetry I have ever heard.” Phasma said.

“This isn’t his stage,” Hux said, feeling amused, and he took a sip of coffee. He should probably be sober for this, so coffee would do well enough as a substitute, and to stave off withdrawal symptoms.

They met Poe in the back alley, behind the coffeeshop.

“I vote no,” Phasma commented, shaking her head firmly.

“No,” Hux said, “Rey is right. Snoke knows us. We need a fresh face.” And he took a few steps forward, grinning at the grifter. “Excellent as always,” he said, with a very present tinge of companionable sarcasm. Poe looked surprised, briefly, but then he grinned and stepped forward, clapping Hux on the shoulder.

“Good to see you again, man! I got worried when I heard you’d fallen off the grid.” He said, and it even sounded genuine. “Haven’t done anything that should get your attention, though. I’m an honest man now, I promise.”

“I’m not,” Hux said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re playing  _ my  _ side?” Poe asked, eyebrows going up. “Always thought you had it in you.” He leaned around Hux to examine Rey, Phasma, and Ren. “And you’ve got a crew, too!”

“Are you in?” Hux asked. Poe grinned and slapped his shoulder.

“Oh, hell yes.” He said. “I’m not gonna miss this.” Hux grinned, and turned to the rest of the team.

“Alright! Then let’s go break the law.”


	3. The Nigerian Job, pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is running a lot longer than I thought it would? Which is kinda awesome!! Just...idk, buckle in for the long haul, guys.

Back at Ren’s apartment, he had rigged up the big screen for some kind of presentation, featuring: lots of candid photos of Snoke.

“Victor Snoke, CEO of Starkiller Industries.” Ren said. “Not very much is known about his past or his family - but he  _ has  _ run several corporations before, and very successfully. He was brought in by Starkiller’s Board of Directors when the company was failing and turned it around, completely.”

“Victor.” Hux wrinkled his nose. “That  _ almost  _ sounds like it was intended to be prophetic.”

“Starkiller handles a lot of fat government contracts,” Ren continued, “but Snoke is primarily involved in their commercial airline business - they have another dude who handles a lot of the government stuff. Palpatine, or something. Hell of a name.”

“You really don’t have room to judge,” Rey said, eyeing Ren. The hacker rolled his eyes.

“When you sent Snoke the plans,” Hux said, “you weren’t supposed to keep any copies.” Ren pressed a hand to his heart.

“I promised. And it would have been  _ very  _ wrong of me to keep them.” He stared up with highly exaggerated innocence.

“Show me your copies,” Hux said. Ren gave him a long, scandalized look, and then appeared to lose the will to continue faking it and started laughing, bringing up his copy of the plans. Hux considered them, for a moment.

“That’s a short-haul domestic airliner,” he said. “One hour flights or less. It’s a fast-growing sector in the industry, very fuel-efficient, high-tech…” He considered a little closer, eyeing the included notes. “Carbon nose, titanium wrap…” He noticed Phasma and Ren staring at him. “...You pick up things.”

“You apparently picked up a lot of things,” Ren said, continuing to give him that very long, very surprised look. He took a breath, went back to his presentation. “Endor and Starkiller were head to head, and Snoke and Antilles have been competing like crazy.”

“Antilles got there first,” Rey said, “and Snoke took the shortcut.”

“So he has a rival,” Hux said, and he leaned against the back of Ren’s chair without really thinking about it. “A rival that makes him so utterly furious he’s willing to turn to theft. This is good.”

“What’re you thinking, Hux?” Poe asked.

“I’m thinking Nigerians,” Hux said, a slow grin playing across his face. “Nigerians will do nicely.” 

 

\---------

 

Poe liked his job. Poe really, very sincerely  _ loved  _ his job, really, especially when his job included leaning against the desk of Snoke’s  _ incredibly hot  _ PA - Finn - and flirting with him as aggressively as possible. Finn was certainly not the first man Poe had flirted with during a grift, but he was particularly cute, with the way he flushed behind his hand and tried very hard not to look Poe in the face and really, it was so far beyond not fair that he couldn’t give Finn his number because he did not want to date him as  _ Arthur Gunsdott,  _ but that was who he had to be as long as he was interacting with Snoke and any of his employees.

Which, look, right on time, there he was, even creepier in person than he was in photos. Poe leaned away from the desk and straightened his suit. Time to  _ really  _ get to work. 

“Um,” Finn  coughed, and sat up, and attempted to look professional, “Mr. Snoke, sir, your 11 o’clock is here.”

“What?” Snoke looked briefly confused, and Poe wiggled his fingers, striding forward and offering a hand with a fake business card.

“Arthur Gunsdott,” he introduced himself. “With the African Commercial Transport and Trade Initiative.” Snoke took the card, looking rather nonplussed, but he folded in and played along, beckoning Poe to his office.

Poe felt Finn’s eyes on him as he left.

(He hoped Finn was staring at his ass. This suit really did  _ wonders  _ for it.)

“Government?” Snoke asked.

“Private business,” Poe corrected. “We’re looking to encourage infrastructure development and economic renewal,” which was a lot of very fancy, bullshitey words.

“And what does  _ that  _ mean, precisely?” Snoke asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“We create jobs and trade in Africa, primarily around the Gulf of Guinea,” Poe replied, looking amused, “keep the ah, graft and stealing manageable.”

 

\-----

 

“He’s….not awful,” Ren said, looking far more impressed than he should.

“ _ This _ is his stage,” Hux said. “Poe Dameron is, frankly, the finest actor I’ve ever seen. When he’s breaking the law.”

Ren gave him a long, slow stare. 

 

\-----

 

“Keep graft and stealing manageable? Even in such a small part of Africa, I don’t think I can help you with that.” Snoke said. “I build airplanes, not miracles, Mr. Gunsdott.” Poe laughed, a little.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go talk somewhere a little less formal, hmm?” He beckoned, and the he walked out of the office, knowing that Snoke would have practically  _ no choice _ but to follow. People were so terribly easy to manipulate. 

 

\-----

 

While Poe laid the groundwork with Snoke, there was other work to be done. 

“Ren?” Hux nodded to the hacker, who was already breaking into Finn’s computer. From there, it was simple to trigger a bluescreen, which meant…

“Hello, IT,” Rey chirped. She was tucked into a maintenance shaft, having hooked herself into the building’s phone system.

“Yeah, this is Victor Snoke’s office,” Finn said, and he sounded frustrated, “my computer just bluescreened, and I can’t get it to do anything?”

“Have you tried turning it off and back on?” Rey asked.

“I can’t,” Finn groaned. “Could you just...send someone?” 

“We already have someone on your floor,” Rey said, “she’ll be there shortly.”

And that was Phasma’s cue to stride in, adjusting fake glasses and smiling for all the world like she was the tallest, nerdiest IT girl around.

“Hi, uh, did somebody call IT?”

 

\-----

 

Poe had gotten Snoke out onto the rather lovely plaza near the Starkiller offices, and so far, he seemed to have the man hooked.

“I represent a group of investors looking to start an airline for shortall flights around the Bay of Gambia and possibly into other parts of northern Africa,” Poe explained.

“Cotonou Cadjehoun?” Snoke asked.

“He’s testing you,” Hux said, “you’ll want Parakou.” Poe hummed briefly as acknowledgement.

“Keep away from the hubs,” he said, “revitalize regional airports. So in Benin - Parakou. But really, it’s Nigeria we’re focused on.” 

“Perfect,” Hux complimented.

“The Lagos airport runways are a mess,” Snoke said, sounding dubious.

“New airplanes will give people confidence,” Poe said, idly, “while we renew old runways.”

“Is that so.” Sonke said, eyeing him. “I don’t think I said anything about new airplanes.”

“Victor,” Poe said, because the more familiar approach was a good charm method, “both you and your chief engineer are scheduled to speak at your shareholder’s meeting.”

“You seem to know more about my business than I do,” Snoke said.

“I did my research,” Poe said, flashing Snoke a grin.

 

\-----

 

With Phasma teasing the poor secretary - who was probably having a hell of a day, really, between her and Poe - Rey slipped through the ceiling into Snoke’s office.

“Let me show you how to reconnect to the network,” Phasma said, leaning into Finn’s space.

“Shouldn’t I be playing the IT guy?” Ren asked, idly.

“No,” Hux rolled his eyes, briefly. “I need you here. Being our  _ actual  _ IT guy.” 

Rey huffed out a laugh, from where she had seated herself in Snoke’s office chair. She hooked in a USB external hard drive, copying over a chunk of files and then leaning down to attach a bug to the underside of his desk.

Phasma was cheerily teasing poor Finn, who looked about ready to die, about how good he’d look if he cosplayed Falcon opposite her Black Widow when she spotted Rey slipping back up through the ceiling panel. 

“I should head off,” Phasma said. “Since we’ve got the problem solved, and all. I’m sure there’s some other crisis that only I can solve.”

“Yeah,” Finn said, looking slightly dazed. She waltzed out, and didn’t notice that Finn was staring after her suspiciously, and glancing at the tile Rey had slipped through.

 

\-----

 

“Was it...Gunshot?” Snoke said, and there was a slight hint of condescension to his voice.

“Gunsdott.” Poe corrected, lightly, and then, “Arthur, really.”

“Arthur.” Snoke regarded him long and slow. “If we announce a new product, you are welcome to order as many as you like.”

“You know what to do,” Poe heard Hux say over the comm, and he almost rolled his eyes, because  _ of course he did,  _ “hit him.”

“We would also like to build the planes. More jobs, you know? Build them in Africa, fly them in Africa, sell the rest around the world.” He said, and he watched Snoke’s eyes light up. 

“That’s very ambitious,” he said, guardedly, “do you have the facilities to accomplish it?”

“Raising the money to build the facilities will be no problem,” Poe said, “assuming we can give our investors certainty that there will be something to  _ build.”  _ He was feeling generally pleased with this Arthur character, all around.

“Perfect,” Hux complimented, and damn straight, of course it was.

“Arthur,” Snoke said, “I wish I could, but I really cannot help you.”

“Ah, I understand,” Poe said, and he pushed himself away from the railing he had been casually leaning against, “I’ll just take it to Endor, then.”

He watched Snoke’s entire body tense.

“Endor,” he said, with barely disguised contempt, and then he caught himself. “A fine company. I don’t believe they can help you either, but please.”

“They have a reputation for long-term investment,” Poe said, and he was now idly examining his own fingernails, “you don’t. Innovators. You’re right, it probably is a better fit.” 

“And now I’m aware that you’re manipulating me, Arthur,” Snoke said.

“I hope so!” Poe laughed. “Come on now, just picture it. Hundreds of millions in new contracts, free good press, all right here, at your door.”

“Alright,” Snoke said, acceding, “I’ll take the meeting.”

“Excellent!” Poe said, and he started, now, to really walk away. “I’ll have my office call you. Day after tomorrow?”

“I look forward to doing business with you,” Snoke said.

 

\-----

 

When Snoke returned to his office, Finn glanced at him, and then back at the door. He had a feeling about the man who had come in - Arthur, he called himself - and everything that had come after. A sudden bluescreen, an unfamiliar voice on the line to IT, an even more unfamiliar tech... it all felt like way too big of a coincidence.

“Mr. Snoke, sir, do you mind if I take an early lunch?” He asked.

“Hmm?” Snoke regarded him for a moment. “Ah. Yes. Don’t take too long, I would hate to have to replace you.” He waved a hand, strode back into his office.

Finn grit his teeth. God, he hated that smug bastard. 

“I won’t, sir.” He said, and then he practically bolted out, to the elevator, praying that “Arthur” was still around. This wasn’t, he insisted to himself, at all about how his heart had done little flipflops just  _ looking  _ at the handsome man who had swept in claiming to have an unrecorded appointment with Snoke. Or how fuzzy he’d felt when the man flirted with him. It was about sussing out what was going on. Definitely.

And he was in luck - there was Arthur, and he looked like he was...talking to someone? There didn’t seem to be a phone in sight, but maybe a headset…

“Hey!” Finn said, and he was surprised to see Arthur turn.

“Hey,” Arthur regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

“Who are you, really?” Finn asked. “And don’t lie to me. You may have fooled Snoke, but I know something’s up. You come marching in, take Mr. Snoke out of his office, and then all of a sudden my computer’s on the fritz and there’s some IT lady I’ve never seen before? What’s going on here?”

Arthur blinked, very slowly. And then, he spoke to what seemed to be nothing.

“Hux, we have a problem.”


	4. The Nigerian Job, pt 4

“So,” Ren said, leaning back in his chair, “remind me, Poe, how you’re - what was it - _the best grifter in the business_?” Poe frowned, slightly guiltily. “Because I’m really not feeling it right now.” His eyes shifted from Poe to the man he’d brought with him, a very awkward-looking Finn. “Unlike you, though, I managed to do _my_ job, so we have uh. The stuff. I had to get.” Suddenly he was very circumspect, looking from Hux to Finn and back again.

“Look, Kylo, buddy,” Poe started, and Kylo made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, “it seemed like a really good idea at the time, I mean, Finn’s obviously brilliant, and I figured, he’d already sniffed me out, what’s the worst that could happen after that?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Kylo asked. “ _What’s the worst that could happen_?” His voice pitched up about an octave. “We could all get fucking arrested and spend a very very long time in federal prison, that’s _the worst that could happen_!”

“It’s not _all_ Poe’s fault,” Finn said, sounding a little defensive, “I’d sorta figured out something was wrong when she showed up pretending to be IT?” He gestured at Phasma. “And then there was the blinky thing under Snoke’s desk, and, uh, it all seemed. Way. Too convenient.”

“Some of it was intended to be,” Hux said, and he was regarding Poe with a very intense level of scrutiny too. “But I’m impressed you put _all_ of it together. And also that instead of calling the police, or informing Snoke, you came to find us.”

“Yeah, well,” Finn scuffed a foot against the ground, “Snoke’s kind of a fuck, so.”

“Is he as bad a boss to the people he actually pays as he is to the people he tries to murder rather than pay?” Rey asked, from her seat on one couch arm.

“Wait, what, _murder_?” Finn asked, looking horrified.

“Yeah, he tried to blow us up, it was _incredibly_ rude.” Ren said, and when he watched Finn’s expression get more horrified, he grinned just a little.

“Finn.” Hux cut in, leaning forward. “I asked Poe to bring you here because I want to make you an offer.”

Ren, Phasma, Poe, and Rey all turned to stare at the red-haired man, who was leaning against a support column with his arms crossed and regarding Finn very seriously.

“An offer?” Finn asked.

“Well,” Hux said, “we’re planning to steal a large amount of money from your boss and, if everything goes perfectly, ruin his life. If you help us, you will get a cut of the money - which should be plenty to live off for a very long time. You will also get to fuck over your boss, who, as you said, is _kind of a fuck_.” He looked amused. “If not, you walk out, and do whatever you want. I am making you this offer because you have already sussed us out, and a mind clever enough to pick up all of that needs to be something other than a PA for a crooked CEO.”

Finn looked between them, and his eyes settled on Poe, who was looking very hopeful, for a long moment.

“I’m in.”

\----------

Finn stayed, that evening, which Hux suspected had a lot to do with Poe putting a hand on his shoulder and making big brown doe eyes at him. They were sitting on Ren’s giant couch, and there was some movie running in the background that Hux was barely paying attention to. He was leaned over the pool table, playing against Phasma, who had surprised him by being excellent at the game. When he’d asked where she learned, she’d just laughed and said “about a dozen different bars,” and he was almost certain she’d learned for the sole purpose of hustling people.

“You look better,” she said, apropos of nothing, which made Hux look up and narrow his eyes. “Since we started this. Do you _feel_ better?”

Hux didn’t answer for a long moment. He shouldn’t, and he knew it, but he definitely felt better, and he was drinking at least a little less. More coffee, less alcohol, especially since Ren kept giving him a Look every time he went for a drink stronger than beer.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, leaning over to line up his shot, “but I do.”

“Hey, this job is actually pretty simple if you look at it,” Phasma said, shrugging. “Snoke stole those plans and used you to do it - so to your good-ish-guy brain, that means he’s an acceptable target for your, I dunno, fuck, wrathful judgement from heaven.” Hux snorted faintly, but then she regarded him very seriously and dropped her voice a little. “And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry. About your son.”

Hux tensed, and grit his teeth.

“You know nothing about that,” he said.

“Everyone knows,” she replied. “You were the best, Hux. You dropped off the radar out of nowhere - people noticed. And it’s probably one of the worst stories I ever heard.” She glanced over, and so did he, and he realized distantly that Ren was paying rather a lot of attention to their conversation suddenly. He’d been doing something on his computer - something PVP, if Hux had to guess by the excessive swearing - but his headphones were now around his neck and he was watching Hux with wide, surprisingly warm dark eyes.

Hux had to look away.

“Yes, well, thank you for the pity party,” Hux said, slightly sharply.

“How did he even justify it? The CEO is your _father_ , how did he not pull some strings to cover his _grandson’s_ treatment?” Phasma asked.

Hux felt like he’d been shot. He might as well have been back in that hospital, watching Elijah take his last breaths.

“The treatment was experimental,” he said roughly, “and my father is many things, but a risk-taker is not one of them. He said he refused to waste the company’s money on a gamble, and that I could find another way.” He stared at the table, not really seeing it. “By the time we did, it was too late.” She frowned.

“That’s bullshit,” she said, and then, “you should’ve kept one of those paintings you recovered for him. Would’ve served him right for you to fence it and use the money to -” Hux cut her off with a sharp glare.

“Phasma, we are not friends.” He said very icily. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Right, because you’ve got so many.” She left her beer on the pool table and walked off, over to the side of the couch where Rey had settled with a puzzle, and leaned over to watch her work.

Hux was very still for a very long moment, and then there was a large, warm hand on his arm, carefully guiding him away. Hux glanced up, and met Ren’s eyes. There was a softness in his face, and a gentleness in his manner that his temper and his snark usually belied.

“Come on, sit down over here,” he said quietly, “I’ll get you a drink.”

Hux knew he had to look terrible, and there certainly wasn’t any argument left in him, so he let Ren guide him into the kitchenette and to a seat at the island.

Distantly, he heard an “oooooooooh,” from the couch, which he assumed had to be Rey.

\--------

“Poe, he’s on his way in,” Hux said, from his coffee shop vantage point across from the building where they had _appropriated_ a few offices. Snoke was getting out of his car, and Finn followed, carrying a stack of documents. Poe was by their stolen offices, and Ren was at the table with Hux, which made them look suspiciously like a couple on a date - Hux had already caught a number of glances their way.

“What?” Poe shrieked, barrelling for the elevator. “But I’m not ready!”

“Rey,” Hux said, and he heard movement over the comm, so he redirected back to Poe. “Dameron, you need to be in that lobby to meet him, or he is going to look us up in the building directory.” He paused for a moment. “This is problematic because we are not in the building directory.”

“Why aren’t you in the building directory?” Finn asked, sounding surprised.

“We are not in the building directory because we did not actually rent these offices.” Hux said, sounding faintly exasperated. “We stole them. Temporarily.”

“...Right,” Finn said. “I can probably distract him for a while, but uh, he’s gonna check.”

“I got this!” Rey said brightly, leaning around a corner from the emergency stairwell and holding out a rappelling harness to Poe. He eyed it suspiciously, and then sighed and took it.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, to all of them and no one in particular.

Finn had begun chattering about expense reports, which seemed to be holding Snoke’s attention well enough while Rey and Poe rappelled down through the stairwell.

At the bottom, Poe carefully adjusted his suit and gave Rey a nod of thanks, and then waltzed into the lobby and gave Snoke a broad smile of greeting.

“Victor!” He said. “So thrilled to see you, and I see you brought your lovely assistant.” He winked at Finn, and the man’s face went noticeably red. “Come, come, we’re on the eighth floor.” He waved a hand and beckoned both of them to the elevators.

“Good to see you too, Arthur,” Snoke said, a slightly predatory smile on his face as he followed Poe in.

“Now,” Poe said, as they moved up, “these gentlemen, the ones bringing you this opportunity, are going to expect a bit of...compensation, for their efforts, you understand,” he waved a hand. Snoke regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Not a bribe, of course. A...finder’s fee, shall we say?”

“Of course,” Snoke said, and then, with a slightly derisive laugh, he added, “I thought your job was to eliminate graft and stealing.” Poe laughed more genuinely.

“No,” he said, “my job is to keep it manageable. This is managing it.” Poe winked.

Outside the offices, Phasma quickly made the last-minute adjustments to their door sign - _African Commercial Transport and Trade Initiative, Arthur Gunsdott, Director_. As she walked away, Poe led Snoke out of the elevator and into the offices. Inside were a group of dark-skinned men in fine suits, and Poe led all of them to a conference room, still wearing the same welcoming grin.

\------  
At the coffee shop, Rey dropped herself into a seat at Kylo and Hux’s table, and Hux caught a brief wrinkling of Kylo’s nose, like he was disappointed she was here and the “date” atmosphere was ruined. He brushed it off as silly.

Over Ren’s earpieces, he could hear Poe performing admirably, spinning the brilliant deal for Snoke. It was an elegant thing, really, a careful dance of making it sound _good_ but not _too good to be true._

“He’s wrapping it up, I think,” Hux said idly.

“He’s incredible,” Finn said, slightly awed. “If I didn’t know it was all a con…”

“That’s the idea,” Hux replied.

\------

Poe leaned over the table, nodding to one of his Nigerian contacts. “Is the deal amenable, then, gentlemen?” He asked smoothly.

“I believe so,” the man agreed. “We may absolutely repurpose those factories to build your airplanes, Mr. Snoke.” Snoke looked a very particular kind of self-satisfied that made Poe want to punch him.

“As to the...other matter,” he said, to distract himself from the urge, moving to the head of the Nigerian delegation. The man nodded slowly, reaching into his jacket and pulling out an envelope, which he offered to Poe.

“Of course,” he said, and Poe took the envelope delicately, and walked it across the table to Snoke, who carefully opened it and examined the paper inside, marked with the sum of one million dollars.

“Is that agreeable?” Poe asked.

“I believe we can work something out,” Snoke said, with a nearly vicious grin. Finn actually scooted a little away from him, and Poe almost wanted to laugh. Instead, he caught the other man’s eyes over Snoke’s head, raised his eyebrows, and mouthed success.

\---------

In his office that evening, Snoke frowned at a blinking transmitter under the desk.

“Well.” He said, under his breath. “That absolutely will not do.”

\------

The next day, dressed impeccably and prepared, he was sure, for every eventuality, Poe grinned and brought the group of Nigerian investors up to the reception Snoke insisted on holding after the shareholder’s meeting. If anyone had bothered to ask him, he would have said he considered it a ridiculous and unnecessary choice, and clearly a form of blatant and over the tp gloating, but no one was asking him.

“Finn, buddy, are things under control on your end?” He asked, low.

“Yeah, I got this, Poe,” he replied, and Poe sighed. It was _so nice_ to hear his real name in that lovely, rich voice.

He wove, casually, through the crowd, over towards Snoke, who he could hear having a celebratory discussion with a shareholder.

“The stock,” he heard Snoke say, “is up fifteen points since the announcement of our new project. An excellent day for Starkiller Industries, and for all of us, I think,” he said. The other man gave a short nod.

“I’ll pass that around,” he said, and he stepped away, so Poe slid in.

“Aren’t you the man of the hour,” he said, amused, casually lifting a champagne flute off a passing waiter’s tray.

“Thank you,” Snoke nodded. “Are our friends here?”

“As a matter of fact,” Poe nodded to the group he had come up with.

“Excellent. tHen let us complete our negotiations. Top off this day with the announcement of our deal with your group. Truly make it worth everyone’s while.”

Poe blinked, surprised, for a moment, and then he slid his smooth grin back into place.

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Victor. You have the full payment?” He asked.

“Of course!” Snoke said. “There’s a lovely conference room just off this balcony, we can handle everything there.”

Poe nodded and went to wrangle the investors.

Snoke led them off the conference room, where Finn was waiting, looking slightly nervous.

“Be calm, be cool,” Poe heard him mutter.

“I am calm,” the grifter teased, quiet enough that only the earpieces would pick it up.

“It’s for me,” Finn’s voice squeaked, just a little.

Poe let out the tiniest of sighs and sat down at the conference table.

“I assume everyone is aware of the terms of this arrangement?” The head of the Nigerian delegation asked.

“Well,” Snoke said, “The exact terms of the agreement…” He leaned on an intercom, triggering a loud, brief buzzing. “Are these.”

“FBI!” Someone declared, and about half a dozen federal agents poured in. Snoke grinned, triumphant. “Are you alright, sir?” The lead agent asked.

“Oh, I am fine,” Snoke said, and thne the head of the Nigerian delegation stood up and nodded sharply.

“Yes,” he said, as two agents proceeded to put hands on Snoke’s upper arms. Snoke looked startled, before his face smoothed back to its usual calm.

“Surely there is some sort of misunderstanding; I called you,” Snoke said. “I spoke to Special Agent Higgins?”

“I am Special Agent Higgins,” the lead investigator said, pulling out and displaying his ID. Snoke paled, visibly, which to Poe seemed like something of a feat. “Victor Snoke, you are under arrest for soliciting a bribe from these Nigerian government officials.” Higgins turned to Finn. “Mr. Knight, your assistant, called us, very concerned about a conversation he had overheard, and when we made contact with the gentlemen from Nigeria, we were very disturbed to discover the allegations were true.”

Snoke looked stricken, betrayed. Finn stood a little taller, and Poe moved to stand next to him.

“Please,” Snoke said, “these men are not _government officials_ , they are _con artists,_ ” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the head of the delegation said, pulling out his passport.

It was all right there.

Snoke went just a hair paler.

“Your man knew that when he contacted us,” the head continued, sharp.

“My...man?” Snoke asked. Poe grinned and waved.

“Mr. Gunsdott. He said he worked directly below you.” The Nigerian official said. “He took us to your satellite office.”

“My…” Snoke seemed to be feeling the pieces come together, and Poe puffed up, just a little. It hadn’t been easy, the rapid sign switching between a Starkiller Industries satellite office and the totally fictitious African Commercial Transport and Trade Initiative, and he knew he never could have done it alone, not without Phasma to change out the signs - but the fun cons were never the easy ones.

He guided Finn out quickly, to get them out of the middle of the mess, but he was grinning the whole way.

He hovered at the edge of the party, watching as Snoke, followed by Higgins, pushed back onto the balcony in time to see a rather excessive number of police and FBI vehicles pulling up to the building.

“Snoke, what is this?” One of the men asked. Snoke waved a hand.

“A minor issue, a permit problem, nothing serious,” he said, but then Higgins cut in.

“Is anyone else here involved in the bribe?” He asked, at top volume, and Poe had to press a hand to his face to contain his laughter.

“There is no bribe!” Snoke protested.

“I handed this man an envelope,” the Nigerian delegate said, “containing a cashier’s check for two hundred thousand dollars!”

“I was not handed any check!” Snoke protested, but his protest fades slightly as he remembered the envelope. Poe grinned broader.

“How did you manage that?” Finn asked.

“Sleight of hand,” Poe said. “First thing any grifter learns. I’ll teach you, if you stay on.”

“This will look a lot better for you if you did not deposit that check,” Higgins said. “Do you still have it?”

“I...didn’t...there was no check!” Snoke protested. Another agent walked up to Higgins.

“Sir, we have people searching the lab, seizing the files and computers.”

“What?” Snoke protested. “You can’t…”

“This company has government defense contracts,” Higgins said. “There are very serious rules concerning contact with foreign officials. In short, Mr. Snoke? If I want, I can take your underpants.”

Snoke paled, impossibly, considerably more. Poe tugged on Finn’s arm, an indication that it was time for them to get out.

“I’ll catch up,” Finn said, and Poe nodded, slipping into the crowd.

\------

A quick costume change, and Poe, Hux, Rey, Phasma, and Kylo were blending in with the FBI agents, carrying evidence out of the building.

Hux gave a short nod, extracting a hard drive from one of the boxes, and then moved across the street to another building.

He took an elevator to the top floor, empty and under construction, where Wedge Antilles was waiting for him.

“I came alone,” Antilles said.

“I see that. Thank you, Mr. Antilles, I appreciate that very much.” Hux said. “I understand there was an unfortunate incident with some of your research being stolen. I have it here, on this drive, with proof that it was on Starkiller Industries computers. That, I believe, will do nicely for a few lawsuits, don’t you think?”

“As long as I stop the investigation into the initial theft.” Antilles said.

“That seems perfectly reasonable to me. You have your property back, Snoke gets a very, very black eye, everyone goes back to business.” He passed the drive over, carefully.

“You don’t want money?” Antilles asked. Hux laughed, briefly.

“Oh, no.” He said. “This project has an...alternative revenue stream.”

\------

In his office, watching it be torn apart by FBI agents, Snoke sat with his head in his hands.

His phone buzzed, and out of habit, he answered, pressing it to his ear.

“Victor Snoke,” he said.

“You really should have just paid us,” Hux said idly, leaning against one of the decorative walls surrounding the plaza below Snoke’s building.

“I found the transmitter,” Snoke protested.

“You found the one with the blinking light. Come now, did you really think that was the only one?” Hux had to stifle a laugh. “We let you figure out part of it, and then gave you what you expected.”

“I am Victor Snoke,” he snarled, leaning forward in his seat, “I will not be taken down by _common criminals._ ”

“You’re forgetting the bribe,” Hux said.

“I have neither the check nor the cash,” Snoke protested, “there is no…”

From behind him, he heard the unzipping of a duffel bag, and the loud _thonk_ of many bundles of cash being dumped onto a table. He made a strangled noise of rage.

“That won’t be all of it,” Hux said, “Poe kept some. Something about needing new shoes?” Rey slid up next to Hux, eyeing Poe.

“Why is it always shoes?” She asked.

“You just don’t understand,” Poe replied breezily.

“If a company’s stock price falls ten or fifteen percent in one day and you’re aware it’s coming, you can short sell and make a lot of money. As it turns out, if a company’s stock price falls _thirty_ percent in one day, after a brief fifteen percent rise, you can make a truly _obscene_ amount of money.” Hux grinned over at Ren, who winked in a truly unnecessarily lascivious fashion. “You didn’t even need to be arrested. We just needed the FBI to show up and take quite a lot of boxes out of your office all day, in front of cameras, and terrify the shit out of your shareholders. You being arrested is really just icing.”

Snoke made another strangled noise.

“Oh, and I would strongly recommend not mentioning us to those federal agents. Next time, we won’t be nearly so nice.” Hux hung up, and Snoke sagged back into his chair.

Finn poked his head into the office.

“Hey, Mr. Snoke?” He said. “I quit.”

\-------

Finn practically bounced over to the group, and Poe slung an arm over his shoulders, looking pleased.

“Not bad for your first job, buddy,” he said.

“That was. Really, really fun,” Finn said.

“And now you see why we do it.” Ren grinned, and passed out an envelope to each person present. The noise Poe made upon opening his and seeing the check inside about covered it, really.

“I’m never gonna have to work again,” Finn said, almost dreamily. “I can move out of my crappy apartment.”

“Whoa,” Hux said, looking over at Ren with a deeply impressed expression on his face.

“There was some overlap between the London markets and the NASDAQ, and the valuation carried over,” he waved a hand. “I am very good at what I do.”

“This is the score.” Rey said, eyes wide. “The score.”

“Age of the geek,” Ren said, and he was definitely preening a little.

“Someone kiss him so I don’t have to,” Phasma said, lightly punching Ren’s arm. For a moment Hux very seriously considered it, but...well. There would be better times. Probably.

“I assume this means we’re out, right?” Ren said. “This is go-legit-and-buy-an-island money.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Hux said, and he turned on his heel, and they split.

Not five minutes later, Kylo was sliding in behind him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that much fun on a job,” he said.

“It’s a walk away,” Hux protested without much force.

“And I have, you know, anger issues, but I didn’t break anything or hit anyone! You. Kinda kept me calm,” he continued.

“I’m really good at one thing,” Rey said, falling into step with Hux too.

“Rey,” he sighed faintly.

“Only one thing! But you’re good at everything else, and I can’t just retire!”

“You want to know what I think?” Phasma asked.

“Not in the slightest,” Hux groaned.

“How long before you fall apart again?” Phasma continued, unhindered. Hux heard Ren make a noise of concerned agreement.

“I’m touched,” Hux said, and sounded exactly the opposite.

“You can’t be out of the game. You need the high, you need the chase - that’s why you were a disaster,” Phasma just kept on going, and Hux sort of wanted to hit her.

Not that she was wrong, but he didn’t have to _like_ that she was right.

“I can’t think of anything I’ve ever done that was half that cool!” Finn said, and Hux almost wanted to scream. “I can’t just give it up, I mean, that was fantastic, you took down Snoke, you saved the day!”

And then Poe was standing in front of him, grinning broadly.

“You pick the jobs, Hux, come on.” He offered.

“I chase bad guys,” Hux argued.

“So go find some bad guys!” Poe grinned. “Bad guys have money, too!”

\--------

In a quiet, homey-furnished office, Hux listened as an obviously distraught set of parents told a familiar and painful story.

“She was seventeen,” the mother stammered, between tears, “and they killed her!” Poe tested a fortifying hand on her arm, and she leaned into her husband, sobbing louder. “They said it was an accident, but that company killed her! I want them hurt!”

Hux sympathized.

“We can’t pay you,” the husband said.

“We work on an alternative revenue stream,” Poe said, which was probably meant to be reassuring but really just seemed to confuse them.

“I don’t understand,” the husband continued. “The judge said we couldn't appeal. What are you gonna do?”

Hux leaned forward in his chair.

“People like that - corporations like that - they have all the money, they have all the power, and they use it to make people like you go away.” He said. “Right now, you are suffering under an enormous weight. We provide…” A grin spread, briefly. “ _Leverage_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! A little discussion of how things will continue! I intend to do the second and third episodes for sure (since episode 2 will be especially emotional with ex-Marine Hux and episode 3 introduces Sterling and I am kid of really satisfied with my "casting choice" for Sterling in this AU) but after that I'm kinda open to suggestion! I can take a vote and see which episodes are most popular, just do my favorites, or whatever! Let me know what you think and feel free to harass me on tumblr -- I'm there at songstressfox.tumblr.com and am always happy to babble fic stuff!


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